


Salt & Pepper

by erytheis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, and let's say Infinity War is not going to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erytheis/pseuds/erytheis
Summary: Yes, Mr. Stark may be kind of old, but that doesn't mean he still isn't the coolest person Peter knows.





	Salt & Pepper

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This one is really short, but I had the idea and forced myself to write it, I hope you like it!
> 
> English is not my first language, so if you spot any mistake, or something could be said in a better way, please don't hesitate to tell me. Have a nice day!

“Mr. Stark is waiting for you at his lab.”

It’s not the first time Peter’s at the compound, far from it, but he still walks quietly behind Happy, letting the other man lead him. Part of the reason is because he’s still pretty intimidated by the idea of the Avengers, even if Mr. Stark offered him a spot on the team, even if he’s already a full-time student and nephew and part-time friendly-neighborhood Spider-man.

“Kid? You going in or I’m gonna have to push you?” Happy looks like always, so like he ate a sour candy and he’s not happy (ha, got it?) about it. Actually, right now it looks more like he ate two entire sour candies. Probably because he likes to pretend to be real busy, and Peter’s daydreaming and not paying attention, obstructing his not work. Oh, right.

“Yes, Happy. I mean no, I’m going in. Thanks.” Peter’s already stepping into the elevator when Happy stops him by grabbing his arm.

“FRIDAY says he hasn’t slept for a few days, and he’s been down there for three weeks.”

“Oh, what about Miss Potts?” Peter asks surprised. Miss Potts is usually very good at dragging Mr. Stark out of his lab and making sure he doesn’t forget himself. In the last few months Peter’s learnt a lot about his mentor, and the first one was that he is a DisasterÔ. And to think that Peter used to believe that Tony Stark was that great entity so put together and always looking ready for a photoshoot. It just makes him more of a hero, in a very human way.

“Miss Potts has been in a business trip for about, let me see, three weeks. So there’s that.”

Peter hums quietly and Happy lets him go, turning the opposite direction. So now he understands why Happy has asked him to come to the compound. Ever since that one time when Peter got Mr. Stark to take a shower and get some sleep in a bed after a frantic marathon of updating Peter’s suit, Happy thought him able to deal with a sleep deprived and obsessed Mr. Stark. Well, maybe he’ll have to try to use those puppy eyes Ned says nobody in their right mind can refuse, although he doubts they will work on Mr. Stark again.

“Hello, Spiderling,” FRIDAY greets him when he finally enters the elevator. “It would be great if you got Boss to take a break. He’s been working nonstop on Colonel Rhodes’s War Machine suit and braces upgrades.” Obviously. When Mr. Stark overworks himself it usually is on someone else’s behalf. And people still have the nerve to call him a selfish billionaire, hero wannabe. Peter would totally fight those antis if the opportunity arises. As himself, forget Spider-man.

“I’ll try my best,” Peter reassures FRIDAY while stepping out of the elevator and into the work of art that is Tony Stark’s lab. “Mr. Stark? Hi, it’s Peter! Happy told me to come!”

Peter turns his head around, but Mr. Stark is nowhere to be seen. The lab looks chaotically organized like always, so nothing in special catches his eyes. Okay, he’s lying, everything down here catches his eyes one way or another. Mr. Stark is known for working in several projects at once, and Peter can’t help but stare in awe at each of them, even if he’s been here enough times for the lab not being a novelty.

A chirping sound to his left brings Peter back to reality. For a second he thinks it’s Mr. Stark, but it’s only DUM-E, who happily makes his way to Peter with a tennis ball grasped tightly in his claw.

“Hey, buddy!” Peter greets, almost as excited as the bot himself. “Do you wanna play fetch?” DUM-E answers with a series of happy beeps, and Peter momentarily forgets about his own mission of fetching Mr. Stark out of the lab. “We’ll play in a minute. First you gotta do something really important. Can you please tell me where Mr. Stark is?”

DUM-E looks deflated at first, but then he turns his arm towards some cluttered worktables and throws the ball, surprising Peter with the force and speed. It obviously also surprises Mr. Stark, who cries out and rapidly bolts up from between the tables, rubbing at his head, where the ball allegedly hit. Knowing DUM-E’s aim, it’s probably been just luck, but the robot keeps making happy and curiously smug noises, so Peter suspects Colonel Rhodes has been practicing with him.

“Mr. Stark! What were you doing down there?” Peter almost runs to him. Mr. Stark looks tired and confused, with bloodshot eyes and beyond dirty clothes. “Well, at least you were sleeping. Because you were sleeping, weren’t you?”

“Not really. I was… just working on the floor.” And Peter believes him, because he now can see blueprints, wires and circuit boards scattered around. “What are you doing here, kid? Do you need me to look at the suit?”

Peter has never seen Mr. Stark so exhausted, with giant bags beneath his eyes and hunched shoulders. And old. Mr. Stark looks so old, and it’s so off-kilter Peter needs a good few seconds to realize why is that. His once a neatly groomed black goatee is not an unkempt full beard streaked in white. And also his hair, ohmygod, his hair is _all_ white! Not gray, oh no, full cute bunny white, or ghost sheet white, or Moon Knight white. Well, not all his hair is white, just the roots, but enough that it can’t now be unseen.

“Mr. Stark, your hair is white,” Peter points out before he can stop himself, and Mr. Stark looks taken aback for a moment, and then he lets out a delighted laugh.

“Shit, kid, you sure play on my insecurities.”

“I, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark… I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey, it’s okay Pete. And it’s the truth, isn’t it? I’m really just and old man trying to keep up.”

Mr. Stark then asks again if Peter needs a suit check, and he’s obviously changing the subject, but Peter doesn’t want to say anything else in case it’s really not okay and Mr. Stark is mad at his big mouth and no brain filter, so Peter gets his suit out of his bag and they start working on it, even if Mr. Stark is dead on his feet and should sleep for at least three days straight.

“If it helps, Mr. Stark, if you’ve gone white it means you’re not gonna lose your hair.” Peter wants to kick himself as soon as the words left his mouth, the routine of working on his suit with Mr. Stark leading him back to a false sense of security. Now he really expects Mr. Stark to get angry and to kick him out of the lab, having had enough of Peter’s teenage bullshit, but Mr. Stark again all he does is laugh and lean back on his chair, dismissing the holographic future updated with a hand wave. Maybe he’s reached a point beyond exhaustion where everything’s funny, kind of when Peter, against all warnings, decided to try MJ’s special brownies. That was a wild ride.

“Yeah, it helps. Thanks, Peter.” Mr. Stark closes his eyes, and for a few seconds Peter believes he’s just fallen asleep right there, but then he continues speaking. “You’re not here because of the suit, are you?”

“No,” admits Peter. “Happy asked me if I could get you out of the lab. You need to rest, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re right. Guess I just needed some young blood to come throwing hard truths at my face.” Despite the words, there isn’t a trace of malice in Mr. Stark’s voice, only sadness, and Peter can’t take that.

“You’re not that old, Mr. Stark, quit moping.”

“Not that old? Kid, I’m reaching fifty, how’s that not old?”

“Not that old. Aunt May if fifty, and she’s fine.”

“Aunt May is a nature goddess who doesn’t want to and shouldn’t reveal her secrets. But my hair is white, you said it yourself.”

“So? And it’s a nice shade of white, people my age bleach their hair to have this color. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.” Peter feels like he’s gone too far, but well, he can’t stop now. “Of course, if you want, you absolutely keep dyeing your hair. And beard. I mean, Aunt May dyes it too. Her hair, not her beard. She doesn’t have a beard. Anyway, I just think it’s kinda cool, you know. Doesn’t George Clooney rock his salt and pepper look? Or so says Aunt May, I’m more a Brad Pitt kind of guy, but you could rock it too.”

Damn it Peter, another unnecessary and embarrassing word dump. He hopes Mr. Stark is too tired to keep up with it, but it’s Mr. Stark he’s talking about, of course he’s keeping up.

“Oh, Peter. But I’m all salt. I’m just a salty old man with not a bit of pepper.”

“But you do have a bit of Pepper, I’d say.” Peter turns his head immediately to the voice, and finds Miss Potts approaching them, an amused smile on her face.

“Pepper! You’re back! How long you’ve been here?” And Mr. Stark, despite the weariness, manages to look so excited that the years the white hair gives him wash off at a moment’s notice.

Miss Potts reaches them and after affectionately ruffling Peter’s head, she bends down to kiss Mr. Stark, but stops at mere inches from his face, frowning.

“You need a shower, honey. Also, since you two were immersed working on that suit. I was behind Peter and you seem to have lost your distance glasses. Again.”

“See, kid, I’m so old I need glasses.”

“I needed glasses before the bite since I was three years old, Mr. Stark.”

“Peter, I know how bothersome it is to put up with a sulking Tony Stark, so thank you for coming. Happy didn’t know I was coming back today.”

Peter recognizes a dismissal when he hears one, so he stands up and gets his suit back into his backpack.

“It’s alright, Miss Potts, I had fun. I’m going to leave now.”

Peter can’t help but smile at how Mr. Stark keeps looking at Miss Potts, completely absorbed in a way he doesn’t even notice Peter leaving. It’s the same look Uncle Ben always saved for Aunt May.

“So you feel old, uhm, silver fox,” Peter hears almost when he’s entering the elevator, and blushes slightly, since he’s only hearing this thanks to the spider senses.

“I do. I do feel old.”

“Too old to be a daddy, then? Too bad, because I had a surprise for you.”

The doors close, and Peter smiles.


End file.
